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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23665006">once, in Dorne</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluecarrot/pseuds/forpeaches'>forpeaches (bluecarrot)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eloping, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Modern Era, Short &amp; Sweet, Short One Shot, Sweet, Teen Romance, Teenagers, Wordcount: Under 10.000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:09:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>568</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23665006</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluecarrot/pseuds/forpeaches</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>a midnight drive to Dorne, and Jaime’s in the passenger seat.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>98</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>once, in Dorne</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>written 15 April 2020.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Next exit,” said Jaime. “That’s us.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Brienne gripped the steering wheel. “We don’t have to do this. We could still turn back.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t want to go back,” he said.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She risked a glimpse away from the highway to see his face. Nervous, excited. Happy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But then, Jaime was always sure of himself. She focused on the road, passing below them, the way it hummed—</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Exit,” said Jaime</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">and Brienne shifted down to third, putting on the blinker though no one was around to see at this hour of night, checking her mirrors belatedly and feeling guilty about it — and about other things — as they pulled off the highway.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaime was oddly silent. She didn’t like it. “Navigate!” she told him. “Where am I going?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um. Left at the light, then it’s on the left.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right off the interstate, huh.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“They know their customer base. Brienne—”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She found the parking lot and pulled in nearly, signaling correctly, settling it into a space.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They sat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaime reached over and turned the car off, leaving the keys in the ignition. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She loved that about him — that he didn’t take out the keys and hold them, that he agreed they should take her car here though his was faster and more comfortable, that when she asked him what she should wear tonight he said<em> I assumed we’d wear jeans but I don’t know, we can dress up, do you want to dress up? </em>— these little reminders that she knew who he was, that he wasn’t the boy his father or hers warned her about. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Brienne?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s go,” she said.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your palm is sweaty,” he whispered.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She flushed with embarrassment and tried to pull away. “Sorry.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaime held on. “No, it’s not that. I mean — are you sure about this?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The septon cleared his throat. “Is there a problem?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Instead of answering, Brienne looked at Jaime.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looked at her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had stayed outside her window every night for months, waiting for her father to fall asleep, waiting for Brienne to sneak out. They didn’t do much — only sat on a horseblanket and talked, admiring the velvet summer stars — but she wasn’t a fool, she knew what pressed against her when they kissed. <em>I’m not ready,</em> she’d said — thinking that she very well might be — searching for irritation in his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His laugh had a jagged edge to it. <em>I can wait.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>What if I’m never ready?</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Then I’ll be waiting a long time, </em>he said. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She thought then that he would leave, he would end it, he’d find someone pretty, someone who hung on every word that fell out of his perfectly-formed mouth and never, never rolled her eyes and said he was wrong — but he stayed. They bickered and argued and yelled, and she bested him in spars three times out of five, and it was two long years before she was old enough to sneak out at night and come get him, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt after all, to drive them both in her broken-down truck across the border into Dorne, to stand in front of a septon and say</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m ready.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Children in trouble,” said the old septon, looking out the door. “We are a beacon for children in trouble ... and she couldn’t have been more than a day over age.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe they’ll be happy,” said the other. “Stranger things have been known.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And they were.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>the story is ambiguous only because i couldn’t find a graceful way to say that yes, dear Reader! they have been banging p much all this time.</p><p>*</p><p>it’s ASOIAF canon that they’re equally matched in terms of strength &amp; ability; my headcanon adds that Jaime isn’t used to fighting all-out, while Brienne (for various reasons) is accustomed to putting all herself into a task ... so she tends to win their spars.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p>i read this to my spouse who said, dryly, “Your writing is always about us, but that one was VERY OBVIOUSLY about us.”<br/>Which ... yes.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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